


Who's to Say?

by Oneofusdies



Category: Star Trek
Genre: M/M, Star Trek AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oneofusdies/pseuds/Oneofusdies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Based on - http://tinyurl.com/youbrokemyheartau ]</p>
<p>James Tiberius Kirk; a 15 year old stray who was picked up off the streets of Atlanta by David McCoy.</p>
<p>Leonard Horatio McCoy; a 21 year old medical student who is spending the summer at his father's lavish estate.</p>
<p>Six years separate the two, and yet neither seem to care. It is Leonard who invites Jim to spend a week at his father's lake house, and it is Leonard who takes the teenager's virginity on the trip. The rest of the summer is a blur of affection and love, both men falling hard for one another. But McCoy has to go back to college, and when he is away from Jim he begins to worry about being with someone so much younger.<br/>Taking an internship in Washington state, Leonard breaks up with Jim and moves thousands of miles away. Though he is heartbroken, Jim refuses to abandon a good job and a real home.<br/>Five years later, David McCoy dies in a car accident and leaves the estate to Leonard who has no choice but to come home and face the past that he tried so desperately to outrun, and the man who he wronged. Leo is still in love with Jim, but has he damaged things between them forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who's to Say?

Riverside is a small town in Southern Iowa; Washington County to be precise. People figured it had gotten it's name on account of it being beside the English River. Real clever folks, the founders of Riverside had been. Who else could come up with such a creative name? Yeah, that's sarcasm. That town is just plain old boring. It's got a boring name, and nothing exciting ever happens here. The population is less than a thousand, and trust me when I tell you that only one interesting person has ever lived there; that person was me.

My name is James, but I usually go by Jim or sometimes Jimmy. I fucking hate the nickname Jimbo though. Refrain from calling me Jimbo, and I'll refrain from rearranging your face. See, I don't live in Riverside anymore. I ran away when I was fifteen years old and I never looked back. My mom wasn't a bad mother, she was just stressed; far too sad to look at the son who is a spitting image of her dead husband and way too exhausted to put up with his- my- bullshit. 

I'm sure she would have been amazing if my dad was still alive, but things rarely happen the way they do on television. George Kirk was a hero, a soldier for the United States Army. It was an IED that did him in after years of impeccable service. I don't like to imagine it, but sometimes I picture it anyway. Just think, one minute you're walking around with your squad and the next you're just gone. Isn't it scary, the way you can so easily cease to exist? Scares me at least.

 Mom remarried when I was about seven, and I think she was hoping for a man who would be as good as dad had been. I didn't get to meet him, he was overseas when I was born. I'm still pretty sure that this new guy, Ralph, wasn't even close to being the man my father had been. Ralph is good to my mom, he makes her happy and treats her great. That is precisely why I never mentioned the way he'd knock me around and call me 'worthless' or 'mistake'.

 Whatever his insult of the day was, I just took it. Hell, I'm not stupid. I know I could never make my mom as happy as he does, and I suppose I had it coming. After all, I wrapped his car around a tree when I was twelve. Boy, did he take the skin off my ass for that one. With his favorite belt, and you can be sure he didn't spare the buckle either. Finally I had enough. I packed up some stuff, took all the money out of his wallet, and I was gone. I suppose they must have looked for me, but I knew they wouldn't find me.

 I'm an expert at making myself scarce.

\--

 Atlanta, the capital of Georgia and one hell of a city. Close to half a million people live in it's 132 square miles. It's the most populated city in Georgia, and a decent place to lose yourself. David McCoy has been working in the congested city for years now, decades even. He doesn't mind the busy city, but he can't deny he prefers the silence of his estate, nearly an hour away in Madison. That is precisely where he is headed, now that he's finally finished up his paperwork for a trial he had coming up.

 Stepping out into the warm summer night, the older man heads across the street towards the parking garage. He notices the teenager before the teenager does, notices the paper cup he's currently trying to have filled with dollars or coins. David thinks about his own son, back when he was this kid's age. The boy can't be much older than seventeen, maybe not even sixteen. But when he draws closer, he can tell there is an intelligence in those unearthly blue eyes.

 He's about six feet away when the boy notices him, turning on some automatic charm. After all, it's a good bet that someone in a suit as nice as the lawyer has on, will have enough pocket money to share. If that someone isn't selfish, or irritated by panhandlers that is. "Hello there, good sir, that is one hell of a suit. Italian cut? I bet you had it made just to your measurements, didn't you? A suit like that rarely comes off a rack."

 It's so typical to hear a kid butter you up when they wanted something, but it's so atypical of a panhandler to try compliments. Usually they go with sob stories, or just try to look ashamed of themselves until you're feeling too guilty to say no. David finds himself intrigued, thinking about the ten dollar bill or even one of the twenties he has. Most likely this kid is a stray, abandoning a terrible home. The lawyer thinks maybe, just maybe he notices pain in those azure eyes.

 "You're right, it was made to my measurements. What is your name, son?" Ah, he sounds like an old man doesn't he? He can almost hear Leonard teasing him about his choice of vernacular already. Coming to a full stop about two feet in front of the teenager, he pushes both hands leisurely into his silk-lined pockets and waits for an answer. "Jim, my name is Jim. And you are?"

 "David, David McCoy. Tell me Jim, how would you feel about a job instead of whatever you'd like to call what you're doing?" All business, that's what Leonard says about him. David is a kind man, and usually rather gentle unless he's in a court room or you've done something to provoke his wrathful side. The young man looks uncomfortable suddenly, and kind of shifts back. "Look, I don't do stuff like that. I'm not _that_ hungry, okay?"

 David is confused for a moment, but when the realization strikes him he almost flushes. To think he should be confused for someone cruising for young boys to have sex with, his dead wife would have laughed her pretty brunette head off. "No- Not that. You see, I live on a farm, I own horses. I'm interested in hiring someone to clean the stables. I've even got a place you can stay, and I'll feed you. You could save up until you were on your feet."

 It's sudden, and David isn't completely sure why he's offering this. The boy could be a thief, some violent criminal. But the older man doesn't think that's the case, and something inside of him is telling him this is the right call. He's got more than enough money to take in a stray. As a lawyer he has seen plenty of runaways turn to crime to support themselves, or runaways who wind up hooked on drugs or dying before their thirtieth birthday. Maybe this kid was put in front of his path for a reason.

 Or maybe David is just crazy. The teenager surely looks at him like he might be, and he can tell there is hesitance in his eyes. "I'm a lawyer at that firm back there, I've got a decent reputation in the law-world and an even better one where I live. My son is there too, Leonard. How about this, come see the stables, meet my son, and have dinner with us. If you don't like the idea, I'll give you a ride back to Georgia in the morning and a hundred bucks."

 Immediately the teen's eyes whirl to life, and David can see more of the intelligence behind them. He is weighing his options, deciding whether or not it is safe to go with a man he'd met not even five minutes before. And finally, the decision is made and the gears stop turning. "You've got yourself a deal. What should I call you?" He grabs a bag from the sidewalk and zips his cup into it before shouldering it and pressing his hands into the pocket in front of his navy-colored hoodie.

 "David, you can call me David." "Alright David, lead the way."

\--

Jim can't remember the last time he's been in a real house, one that wasn't half an apartment or run down and vacated by squatters. He knows for sure he's never seen a house like this one, not even in passing. Maybe he's seen pictures of houses close to this, but the lawyers home is impressive. There are numerous windows, big ones with light streaming through a few, standing out against the dark of the night. "Wow." It's all he can muster, his blue eyes wide as he looks out the car window.

 The older man smiles and parks in front of the lavish home, shutting off the car and looking proud of himself. "Thank you, Jim." Opening his door, Jim gets out and smells the sweet country air, void of the smog that the city possesses. It reminds him of home, and it soothes him. Following Mr. McCoy's lead, he heads inside and is sure to wipe his feet on the welcome mat. Wow, if he was overwhelmed by the outside, he has no words for what the inside do to him.

 Everything is so neat, and he's sure there must be a maid somewhere, sweeping or dusting. The place is immaculate and decorated the way one would imagine a wealthy southern home to be. Ornate wood moldings, marble tile in the foyer, paintings on the walls that were undoubtedly not prints. Probably more expensive than Jim would even like to consider. He's so focused, he almost jumps when a voice calls out from up the curved stairway he's only just realizing is there.

 "Welcome home dad, how was-" The deep voice of the young man cuts off when he notices the guest beside his father, stopping in the middle of the steps to look at him. Jim glances up and almost freezes because _oh good lord_ he's never seen such a handsome man in his entire life. _That_ was the lawyer's son? Of course. Beautiful home, beautiful suit, beautiful car, no doubt he needed to have a beautiful son too. But did he have to be _that_ beautiful, really? It almost isn't fair.

 "Leonard, this is Jim. I invited him to have dinner with us, and discuss him possibly working in the stables to clean them. Less work for you, right?" The older McCoy smiles and takes off his jacket, loosening his tie to get comfortable for the evening. Leonard resumes walking down the stairs, looking a bit confused. Still, he smiles and offers the teenager his hand. His big, strong hand with it's perfect fingers-- oh god, Jim. Get a hold of yourself.

 "Hi, Leonard." Jim says more quietly than he means to, and homes it comes out as bashful rather than nervous. Clasping Leonard's hand in his own, Jim offers him a smile and his bright blue eyes light up like sapphires caught in the sun. "It's a pleasure to meet you, your dad told me you were going to medical school. Which is cool, I know that's supposed to be pretty tough."

 --

Jesus fuckin' christ, this kid has eyes the color of tropical waves and Leonard feels the floor shift under his feet when he turns that smile on. He can't be more than sixteen and yet the older brunet is feeling quite a bit of want in the pit of his stomach. Christ Leo, get a hold of yourself. He's a kid, god dammit. And since when did you find yourself drawn to men instead of ladies? Oh, right. Since about a minute ago when you met one with the face of a fucking angel.

 No, not a man! He was a boy, stop that. Rolling his eyes, he reminds himself to respond to the teenager's words. "I see, he does enjoy braggin' about me it seems. You can call me Leo, though, alright Jim? Nice to meet you too, by the way." Realizing that he's been holding onto the blonde's hand, Leonard lets go quickly and crosses his arms over his chest to look at his father. "Lucille is making pot roast, shall I let her know to set another place at the table?" 

 "That would be wonderful, take Jim with you so I can go change out of this monkey suit, will you Leonard?" Without waiting for an answer, David heads upstairs towards his bedroom. Hazel eyes lock onto blue ones and the doctor-to-be finds his stomach fluttering again. This was going to be a long evening, wasn't it? An even longer summer if the kid gets the job. "Follow me, alright?" Offering a reassuring smile, Leonard turns and heads down one of the halls towards the kitchen. 

 God save him, this was going to be an _incredibly_ long night.

 


End file.
